


Faith Like Blue Food

by JainaDurron7



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Blue Food (Percy Jackson)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26012842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JainaDurron7/pseuds/JainaDurron7
Summary: Sally explains to Paul the thing about blue food.
Relationships: Paul Blofis/Sally Jackson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	Faith Like Blue Food

_ Gods,  _ Paul. What an absolutely normal name. Well, except for his last name, but Sally was willing to overlook that. Paul Blofis, with a typical first name with a fairly typical job as a high school teacher, with a normal, average home in a small Manhattan apartment. Who enjoyed normal things like reading and writing, and wore normal khaki shorts with a plain t-shirt.

Honestly, Sally was starting to feel terrible for Paul that she wanted to drag him into her completely abnormal life.

Paul was quirky, that was for sure. (Sally was beginning to wonder if that was her type.) But for all his small quirks and his validated obsession with Shakespeare and stage sword-fighting, Paul was so normal; Sally struggled to fathom it. Maybe this was meant to be. It was uncalled for by the gods that someone is as normal as Paul Blofis. It was up to Sally to turn his world upside down.

But not now. Not yet. Gods, she shouldn’t even be thinking about that yet! To think about telling him … It was still early in her and Paul’s relationship, but she cared about him. Gods, she thought she even loved him! But she knew she ought to take things one step at a time and establish where they were at before she even thought about telling him about— well, the immortal side of her son’s family. She and Percy had enough quirks to themselves without including all the Greek gods stuff.

With a content sigh, Sally banished all thoughts of the Olympians and monsters and the like from her mind, settling comfortably into Paul’s embrace. They sat curled up together on her couch, watching David Tennant’s performance in Hamlet.  _ Cabin seven, _ Sally automatically recalled.

The production reached intermission and Sally paused it. “Up for snacks?”

Reluctantly, Paul withdrew his arm from around her shoulders. “Sure. What do you have?”

“How about chocolate-chip cookies with that wine you brought?”

Paul chuckled. “Sounds like a winning combination.”

“Oh, come on.” Sally hurried into the kitchen, pulling a Tupperware of cookies from the snack cabinet along with a plate and two glasses. “Cookies are the perfect snack; they are perfect for every occasion.”

“Are yours homemade?”

Sally froze, turning back to the living room and staring deadpan at Paul. “Don’t tell me you eat store-bought cookies.”

He looked guilty. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a baker. And neither was my mother. Little Debbie is all I know.”

“I am ashamed of you, Paul Blofis.” She wagged a finger his way. “And to think I was going to invite you for dinner with Percy and me.”

“Ha, alright! So, are yours good?”

“Percy says mine are the best he’s ever had.”

“As your son, I think he’s supposed to say that.”

Shaking her head enthusiastically, Sally hurried back to the couch to set down the glasses so she could stuff a chocolate-chip cookie into Paul’s mouth. His brows shifted with the first taste, approval and surprise painting his expression. Sally laughed, handing him a napkin as generous crumbs fell from his lips. He caught a piece while he chewed and examined the cookie bit in his palm. “It’s blue.”

Sally put the Tupperware in his lap, showing him the bowl full of blue cookies. “Yes. Blue cookies are real.”

Paul choked on a laugh. “Okay. I never said they weren’t. Although, I’ve never seen any before now.”

Sally shrugged.

“Can I just ask why they’re blue?”

“Why can’t they be?”

“Well, I mean, of course they can! Just … why? What would move you to make the effort of mixing food coloring into your batter?”

“When Percy was little, he asked me to make blue cookies.”

“So, now you just always make cookies with blue food coloring?”: Paul wasn’t trying to start an argument over blue cookies or anything. He just seemed— amused, curious. And Sally could appreciate that.

“It’s kind of a running theme around here,” she offered. “Blue food. Not just the cookies. Blue candy, blue pop, blue cupcakes, cake, eggs, bread, marshmallows. Everything.”

“Okay, now I’m a little afraid to use your bathroom.”

Sally laughed, tossing her head back.

“So, because Percy once asked for blue cookies, now you two live on a strict diet of blue food?”

“No, no, it’s more than that. It’s just— I know it’s silly and weird, but …” Gods, the last thing she wanted to do right now when she was with Paul was talk about  _ Gabe. _ Gabriel Ugliano was in her past; her future was completely Gabe-less, and full so many more possibilities. And, hopefully, Paul. Dorky, awkward, lovely  _ Paul _ who was exactly the opposite of  _ Gabriel. _

She sighed. “I’ve told you about my ex-husband before.”

Paul nodded. “Just enough to get the idea he wasn’t the greatest guy.”

“That would be saying the very least, but yeah. I never loved him or cared for him. I married him to protect Percy. … It’s complicated. But, anyway, when Percy asked for blue cookies, Gabe made a big fuss about how there is no such thing as blue cookies or blue food, so … I made blue cookies.”

Paul cracked a grin. “And more blue food. Just to spite him.”

Sally smirked despite herself, shrugging. “Percy was just four, and he wanted to believe in blue cookies. Blue cookies. That’s it! Gabe took so much from us, took away Percy’s childhood, his happiness. I couldn’t let him take away his faith that easily.”

“That’s … pretty profound for blue cookies.”

“But that’s what he was doing. I couldn’t make Percy understand why I married him, how Gabe was protecting him. He just knew that I married a world-class jerk who was hell-bent on ruining any happiness he could find. And Percy already struggled so much. I couldn’t give him his own room or make his teachers understand him. I could only do so much.”

“But he’s a good kid. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. And that’s because he had you.” Paul smiled softly, less amused now and more impressed, moved. “Because you gave him blue food.”

“I want to give him more than blue food.”

Paul shrugged. “I know. But I’m a teacher. Trust me when I tell you that blue food is a lot more than some parents give their kids.”

A tear fell down Sally’s cheek, and she might have been embarrassed if she wasn’t so relieved that he understood. How, she didn’t know, but it was a relief beyond measure to have someone understand her. She  _ really  _ liked Paul.

Paul took another cookie, opening his embrace to her, open to offer comfort. Sally hesitated. “Do you think … that Percy’s troubled?”

“No, not at all. I think Percy’s been through a lot, and he just needs someone to see him and understand him.”

Paul’s hand grazed her arm, once again offering comfort, a soft place to land on. More relieved than she’d ever been in her life, Sally accepted it.


End file.
